Chapter14

    Atnineoclockthemhisservantcameinofchocolateonatrayaheshutters.Dorianwassleepingquitepeacefully,lyingonhisrightside,withonehandunderhhischeek.Helookedlikeaboywhohadbeewithplay,orstudy.

    Themanhadtotouchhimtwitheshoulderbeforehewoke,andasheopenedhiseyesafaintsmilepassedacrosshislips,asthoughhehadbeenlostinsomedelightfuldream.Yethehadnotdreamedatall.Hisnighthadbeenuntroubledbyanyimagesofpleasureorofpain.Butyouthsmileswithoutanyreason.Itisoschiefestcharms.

    Heturnedround,andleaninguponhiselbow,begantosiphischocolate.ThemellowNovembersureamingintotheroom.Theskywasbright,andtherewasagenialwarmthintheair.ItwasalmostlikeaminMay.

    Graduallytheeventsofthepregnightcreptwithsilent,blood-staiintohisbrainandrestructedthemselvestherewithterribledistiness.Hewihememoryofallthathehadsuffered,andforamomentthesamecuriousfeelingofloathingforBasilHallwardthathadmadehimkillhimashesatinthechaircameba,andhegrewcoldwithpassion.Thedeadmanwasstillsittioo,andinthesunlightnow.Howhorriblethatwas!Suchhideousthingswereforthedarkness,notfortheday.

    Hefeltthatifhebroodedonwhathehadgohroughhewouldsirowmad.Thereweresinswhosefasationwasmoreinthememorythaninthedoingofthem,strariumphsthatgratifiedthepridemorethanthepassions,andgavetotheintellectaquiedsenseofjoy,greaterthananyjoytheybrought,orcouldeverbring,tothesenses.Butthiswasnotohem.Itwasathingtobedrivenoutofthemind,tedwithpoppies,tobestrangledlestitmightstrangleoself.

    Whenthehalf-hourstruck,hepassedhishandacro